


soft blakefield moments

by vernesatlas



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blakefield, Happy, M/M, Short, They love each other, boyfriends content, no particular plot, really soft, soft, soft cute moments, soft!!!!!!!!1, soulmate shit, tom and will happily ever after
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:49:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 11,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23527165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vernesatlas/pseuds/vernesatlas
Summary: "He caught Will's eyes, and his face broke into a expression of pure joy, the beauty of which tugs at will's heart so strongly that he felt nothing else, and saw nothing else, but Tom, and Tom only."very soft and very short, each chapter is about a blakefield moment. read when you're sad. very light and happy.
Relationships: Tom Blake & William Schofield, Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 18
Kudos: 90





	1. will's scent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dean charles chapman's pirouettes in billy elliot](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=dean+charles+chapman%27s+pirouettes+in+billy+elliot).



_Petrichor (/ˈpɛtrɪkɔːr/) is the earthy scent produced when rain falls on dry soil. The word is constructed from Greek petra (πέτρα), meaning "stone", and īchōr (ἰχώρ), the fluid that flows in the veins of the gods in Greek mythology._

There was always something that you would always remember about someone, something that would make you instantly think of that person, and for Tom Blake it was the scent of Will. 

Tom never knew how to correctly describe Will's scent. It was something of a mixture of freshly cut wood, and the smell of rain, and something Tom never could quite put his finger on, something that reminds him of the sea. He could smell it when he buries his head in the crook of Will's shoulder, and the overwhelming scent always comforts him. And when he curls around Will's body on the couch, his head resting in the space between his shoulder and neck, he let Will's scent wash over him.

Tom brushed a kiss on a spot near Will's neck, and smiled when he felt Will shiver. 

He remembered, ages ago, when they weren't so in love yet, back in the trenches of the battlefield, when Will rushed past him, and Tom, for the first time, caught a whiff of his scent, somehow carried over the cordite and the rotting smell of the war. And it might have done something to his mind, because he remembered staring after Will, entranced. Will had turned around, blue eyes sharp. "What are you doing, Blake?" he said, "We're moving out in a few minutes, get moving!"

Tom merely smiled, wondering how in the world Will's scent could have been remained intact in the chaos of the war. 

Later, Tom came across a word called petrichor, the scent of rain falling on dry soil. He remembered something about the blood of the gods, ichor, being part of the scent as part of the earth is infused with it. And Tom loved the idea that Will's scent was somehow linked to the gods.

Will turned to look at Tom, eyes amused. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Tom smiled, and shrugged. 

He pressed another kiss on his neck, the collar of his shirt brushing against him, smelling his earthy scent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uuhh did this chapter sound weird??  
> literally don't know how to describe someone's scent without sounding creepy so i hope i did ok haha  
> if it sounded creepy tell me haha


	2. tom & flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is longer but very soft  
> so.  
> enjoy.

Will woke up one morning, too early for the sun to have come out fully, so that soft rays of sunshine peeked through the white clouds, almost shy. 

It was a dream, he thought, and it wasn't like the nightmares that he had about the trenches or the war. It was something calm and soothing, and he recalled walking through a forest, sunlight pouring through the gaps of the trees. And something was ahead of him, something that made him turn and reach for it, something that made him smile...

He turned and saw Tom sleeping soundly next to him, cherubic face framed by the soft locks of his hair, half hidden in the shadows of the morning. He wanted the sun to come out, just so that he could see his features, just so that he could remember how his face curved. But the sun was shy and did not listen, hiding away behind the sleepy clouds.

For a while he sat on the bed silently, listening to Tom's breathing, watching the outline of his torso rise and fall. 

Then a distant chirp of a bird stirred him, as he looked around to see that sunlight streamed through the gaps of the curtains, spilling shafts of light onto the bed.

Will climbed out of bed, careful not to wake Tom, and entered the living room, pulling back the curtains and letting the sunlight pour in. And slowly watched as the sun climbed higher and higher, till the room was bathed in a soft glow.

Then outside, in the small garden which made Tom fall in love with this house, were the few cherry blossoms trees, in full bloom, the soft pink flowers looking like little stars.

Will smiled. Tom had waited for them to blossom for so long. He made his way back to the bedroom, shaking Tom.

"Tom," 

He grunted softly in his sleep and turned over.

"Tom, wake up."

Tom muttered something indiscernible. 

"Tom," he said again, louder. He prodded him again, to no avail. 

"The cherry blossoms are blooming," he said loudly. 

Tom jolted up, grey eyes wide.

"Really?"

And without a word he bolted out to the garden.

Will shook his head and sighed. He could sleep through a hurricane but would wake immediately to news of his flowers blooming.

Will strode back into the living room, standing in the doorway to the garden.

Tom was admiring the cherry blossoms, his delighted laughter filling the air. His hands carefully caressed the petals of the flowers, and he turned from this angle to that, joyfully talking about how they blossomed later than he'd expected.

But Will wasn't really listening.

Tom had turned, just for the sunlight to fall on his face, his soft features heightened. His pools of grey-blue eyes—the exact colour of a lake in winter moonlight— were cast to light, somehow brought to a different height of beauty by the sun's rays. He caught Will's eyes, and his face broke into a expression of pure joy, the beauty of which tugs at will's heart so strongly that he felt nothing else, and saw nothing else, but Tom, and Tom only.

Later, after breakfast, Will tidied up the table while Tom bounded away into the garden once again, to admire his cherry blossoms. 

Will glanced out the window and saw Tom tending to the blossoms carefully, his gentleness and movements so ethereal, especially in the mellow sunlight.

There was something inexplicably arresting of the scene, and he was left wondering, staring into nothing, that he didn't notice when Tom entered the house again.

"Will,"

Will stirred, turning to see Tom in the doorway, something cradled in his palm.

Will smiled at the sight of Tom's face flushed with joy.

He offered a hand out to Will, confusing Will for a moment, until he saw a small cherry blossom cupped in his hand.

"For you," Tom said, almost shyly, though some part of Will laughed at that thought. Tom Blake, shy? And shy, about him?

He looked up at Tom, and saw him, _saw_ him, so vulnerable, so expecting, and, of all things, _shy._

_Because of him?_

Almost just as shyly, Will took the cherry blossom from him.

It was so small in his hand, and unbelievably soft, its pinkness brighter now that he could see it close. It was so delicate, and _small,_ and it was almost ridiculous how such a little thing seem so important in his hand.

"Well it dropped this morning, you know," Tom started rambling, his cheeks pink. "And it was small, so I didn't want to let it sit out, and some nasty bird crushes it or something, you know, and so I took it —"

Will pulled him close and pressed his lips to him.

Tom stood still for a second, then he was kissing him back, softly, sweetly, just like the cherry blossoms outside in their garden...

And Tom pulled away, and Will opened his mouth to protest, to pull him back—

"You might crush the flower," Tom said breathlessly.

Will chuckled, and carefully settled the blossom on the sill of the window.

"Now shut up," Will said, pulling him back into another kiss.

And Tom did shut up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i procrastinated while writing this so be grateful it was a long process.  
> ANYWAY I LOVED WRITING THIS SO MUCH DSAJSADJK  
> more chapters coming, hope you feel very soft and happy and very blakefield-y now.  
> <3


	3. will & water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sfkasdjk  
> lol idk just enjoy

In summer days, when the sun was bright and the skies forgiving, they would go swimming. It didn't matter if it was waterholes or small lakes. If they saw clear blue water they would settle themselves near it and spend their whole day frolicking in the grass and in the water.

Will, especially, loved swimming. Tom knew he liked swimming since small, and it was evident in Will's expression of delight when he saw the waterhole one summer afternoon on a hike through the woods.

Without a word, Will approached the edge of the water and Tom, smiling, sat down on the grassy area a little further away from the water. Will stripped down to his underwear, and despite the fact that Tom had seen every inch of him Will still blushed, darting a glance at Tom. To which Tom responded with a wink. Will rolled his eyes, as if saying: _oh shut up._

And then swiftly, he stretched and jumped— and for a moment Tom saw him clearly, against the bright sunlight, his figure lean— and then he was cutting clean through the water, without more than a few ripples. For a moment he was submerged in the water, then his head rose out of the surface, mouth upturned in a smile.

Tom went closer to the water, stepping into the sunlight, the grass waving serenely in the breeze. 

Will swam in deep and slow strokes, then dived intermittently, resurfacing with a grin on his face.

Tom had rarely seen Will so happy, especially after the war, and it was always a beautiful sight to see him looking so untroubled and contented.

Will had swam near him, his head popping above the surface. Water trickled from his hair to his forehead, streaming down his face in paths.

His eyes were so blue, so startling and deep. Staring into them is like staring into the depths of the sea, and Tom couldn't seem to wrench his gaze away, and it was as though he was drowning, falling into the deep, deep blue of those eyes... Is it endless? The depths of his eyes, those eyes which seemed so bright yet so dark, those eyes that reflected the skies, the sea...

And Will dived back into the water once more, startling Tom out of his thoughts.

He looked up to the high afternoon sun peeking through the trees, the sun rays pouring off into the water surface, making it as though crystals sparkled far deep inside the water. There were wildflowers around him, the petals forming a blur of yellow and pink. He reached out to touch one of the closest to him, admiring the tiny little pink petals and how it looked so delicate. He didn't know the name of these wildflowers; they were often a wild mix of different flowers, and there might not even be a proper name for it. 

For a moment Tom stared out to the calm shimmering surface of the water— _calm. Why is it calm?_

He stood up quickly, reaching closer to the water's edge. Nothing. No ripples. Clear, calm blue and his reflection stared back at him. _Where is Will?_ He peered down the water, hoping to catch a glimpse of Will. 

"Will," he said, his voice trying to come out steady.

And when nothing responded him except for the distant chirping of a few birds, he dived down the water, clothes and all.

Now, Tom could swim. It was just that he couldn't swim very well, certainly not as well as Will. But he didn't give much thought at the moment. Submerged in the water, Tom could barely see a thing, as fear had gripped him quite suddenly.

Then an arm grabbed him, the strong bare arm he was familiar with.

Will dragged him up the water, and they rose to the surface, Tom spluttering, Will annoyed.

"What were you doing?"

Tom wiped his face, "You weren't responding."

"I was in a small cave back through the vines," Will said, still holding him closely, "I couldn't hear you."

Anger flared up in Tom. "Why did you go off like that? You could've gone missing and I wouldn't know!"

Will's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Tom, I was just-"

"Yeah, you're bloody good at swimming, aren't you? That's not an excuse for disappearing like that!"

Will now looked genuinely sorry, with a mixture of amusement in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Tom."

Tom's heart immediately soften. He was not angry anymore, just slightly annoyed. But he still kept a cold face, just to make sure that Will wouldn't try pull any stunts like that again. 

"Now my clothes are all wet," he huffed, flicking the water off his collar.

Will smiled, somewhat mischievously. "I can help you take it off, if that's what you want."

Tom snorted, flicking water at him.

He pulled him closer, closing the space between them as they kissed.

Tom could've sworn Will smiled before they did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh yes we love flirty will  
> also top will content  
> hope you liked this one, more are coming my luvs


	4. drunk will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i actually planned to post a longer one but i procrastinated for the entire day and i feel like shit soo heres a short one, enjoy

Tom had the pleasure to see drunk Will one evening.

Will had gotten drunk before, of course, but his drunkenness was not often noticeable. It was only when they went drinking with some other mates in London that Tom finally saw Will completely hammered. 

Their mates had left sometime after Will's sixteenth drink, and Tom was left to prop Will up and to push away any liquor from a 1 metre radius.

"C'mon, Will, we gotta get back," Tom said, struggling not to laugh as Will ranted heatedly about aeroplanes being unfair since they can fly.

"Noooo," Will slurred, pushing away his hand, eyes unfocused. "I got to, got to, complain..."

"To the aeroplanes?" Tom snorted.

Will nodded earnestly. "To them. And the birds. But birds are nice, maybe not them..."

Tom ducked under the table due to his uncontrollable fits of laughter.

"Right," Tom said, wiping tears from his eyes, "we'll go home first, then we'll go complain to the planes."

This seems to satisfy Will, as he obediently stood up, then had to slump over Tom as he failed to stand properly.

After a few minutes of pushing and shoving and Will randomly exclaiming, "Damn aeroplanes!", they safely made their way out the pub.

The night was cool and sheltered, the moon peeking shyly over the clouds.

Will staggered against Tom, his body warmth seeping into Tom's. Will looked up, the moonlight shining on his bright pink cheeks, making him seem so alive and yet so otherworldly.

"Look," Will's voice was soft. "The moon. It's shining."

 _It's shining on you,_ Tom thought.

Will turned to look at him, his eyes so bright and unbelievably blue. He seemed like a fever dream, his silhouette outlined by the moonlight.

"You're really... really... pretty," Will said, eyes wide, voice slurring. His hand touched Tom's cheek, heat against coolness.

Tom knew that he wouldn't remember any of this the next day, but he couldn't help but feel so surprised at Will's bold display of affection. The way he gazes at him, like he was the only thing he could see, makes Tom feel so bare and vulnerable.

"Tom," he breathed, softly and quietly. His name sounded so fragile on Will's lips.

He was so close... he could see the bright flecks of gold in his eyes. His lips slowly brushed against Tom's. He tasted sweet, like the gin he had drank, and unlike anything he had ever known.

Will pulled away, his eyes half-lidded. He looked so unreal in the moonlight, almost like a mirage, that Tom had to tighten his grip on his waist, to make sure that he doesn't fade away.

"Don't let me fall," Will said, now sounding tired. His eyelids fluttered close. "I can't fly. Not... not like the aeroplanes. So don't let me fall."

Tom held him closer, and touched his cheek.

"I won't ever let you fall."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow soft right?? haha dasjlakdsl  
> anywayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy  
> im tired.  
> i gotta go.  
> i'll try not to procrastinate next time ha


	5. tom's birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello hello  
> hope you guys are all good and well  
> anyway this one is slightly longer but very soft

Tom's 21st birthday was one of the days that Will remembered all too clearly.

They were planning to go to a fancy restaurant somewhere out in London, but an unexpected bout of rain and strong winds halted their plans. Tom sulked for the entire morning, before Will cheered him up with a lunch with all of Tom's favourite foods, including a meat stew that turned out surprisingly well. 

Will and Tom, for the first time, ate a meal backwards, starting with the dessert first, something Tom had always wanted to do. Will had baked a small sponge cake, and even though it was his first time baking, it ended up tasting delicious. Will let Tom go crazy over the frosting, which ended up in the kitchen looking like it waged war against green frosting and lost. Tom also ended up with a great deal with green frosting on his face and (somehow) on his pants. Tom tried to smear frosting on Will too, but Will had ducked under the sofa, and when Tom crouched to find him, wrapped his arms around Tom's waist and kissed his forehead, which ultimately made Will's face full of frosting too.

Will, though wanting very much to do nothing and make out with Tom, forced him and Tom to finish their lunch. Then somehow, they ended up on the couch, curled around each other, lips on each other, hands in hair, the warmth from their bodies intertwined.

And then they were only holding each other, Tom's eyes closed, his arms around Will, his head on his chest, Will's hand curled in his hair, their legs intertwined.

Will studied the softness of Tom's skin, his tiny freckles and how his long lashes rest on his cheeks. 

"Look," Tom said softly, his eyes half-open. "It's not raining heavily now."

Will looked out the window, and indeed it was only drizzling.

Tom slowly disentangled himself from Will, and Will felt as though some warmth has left him. 

Tom padded away to the door to the garden and, barefoot and all, stepped out to the garden without a single hesitation.

Will opened his mouth to call him back, but stopped when he saw the look of wonder on Tom's face.

Will rose from the couch too, and walked to the doorway, leaning against it as he looked at Tom looking up at the sky. Tom held a hand out. Drops of rain settled on him, wetting his clothes and making Tom laugh.

"Come back," Will said, somewhat feeling a bit bitter that Tom had left him, which was ridiculous.But somehow in his heart he could very clearly feel slight jealousy. _Jealous? And of what? The rain?_ He didn't want anyone taking away Tom, and how dare the universe take him away, if not only for a few metres? How dare the universe made these choices, when it knows that Tom had very nearly left him that day by the barn? 

As quickly as those thoughts appeared, it vanished from Will's mind. He was being ridiculous, being jealous over the _rain?_ _Get a grip, Will._

Tom had walked back to the house, grin wide, grey-blue eyes bright, clothes soaked through.

He took Will's hand and led him back to the house, and without saying anything started clambering around in the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Will said, frowning. He didn't like how Tom was casually shoving the glassware.

"Shh," Tom said, now making a ruckus while searching through the cabinets. "Sit down in the living room. It'll be a minute."

Will, frowning but curious, sat down in the living room. 

After fifteen minutes of listening to the clatter of metal and Tom's occasional "Bloody hell!", Tom entered the living room, holding two mugs, wearing a satisfied grin. He handed Will one, and after peering at it, Will had to ask what it was.

Tom huffed in frustration. 

"It's tea, Will!" he said, "what, are you even British?"

"Well, yeah, I know that, but what's the foamy pink thing?"

"It's cherry blossoms. I ground them into really really small bits and add sugar, some milk and mixed it with tea." He scratched his head, "though, I'm not sure where the foam came from."

Will raised his eyebrows.

"C'mon, drink up."

Will's eyebrows raised even higher.

"Would I poison you?" Tom sighed.

"I don't know." Will said, using his teaspoon to poke around the tea. "Is this even edible?"

"Listen, William Schofield, if you don't get that damn tea in your throat I will pour it down your fucking throat."

Will gulped down the tea.

Tom was staring expectedly. "Well?" 

Will's face turned serious.

"Tom, did I ever tell you that you're a bloody genius?"

Tom grinned. "You didn't need to."

"What about the kitchen? Did you burn it down?" Will joked, turning to peer in the kitchen.

Tom's face turned bright red. 

"Uh, it might be best if you don't look there."

* * *

Tom didn't burn down the kitchen, though it looked unrecognizable since tea and ground cherry blossoms were spilt over the counters, and so many unnecessary utensils were thrown across the room. After Will went out of his shock, he made Tom tidy everything up, and henceforth banned Tom from being alone in the kitchen.

After the kitchen was returned to its original state, they sat in front of the crackling fireplace, Tom's cherry blossom tea clutched in their hands. They bantered easily, talking everything and nothing.

When their mugs were almost drained, Tom stood up and stared out the window.

The rain had finally stopped, and left the world sharper than it was, as though it had been washed by the rain. The sun finally appeared through the gaps of the sky, the rays spilling light through the windows, burring everything in a hazy shade of gold.

Will walked to the record player and started playing whatever was on the record. Soft and jazz-like music filled the room, and slowly Will wrapped his arms around Tom, swaying side to side. Tom smiled, surprise mingled in his expression of delight. He turned to put his arms around Will's neck, and slowly they swayed to the music, the sunlight pouring its warmth over them. 

Will closed his eyes, only feeling Tom's body, like it was the only thing in the world that held him down, the only thing that properly anchored him down. 

He felt Tom's lips on his, and at that moment he thought that there was nothing else in the world that could have taken him away from him. Nothing in the world would dare to take him away, when he could feel Tom's heart, could feel him so close.

Somewhere deep in Will's mind whispered, _So this is what paradise feels like._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok honestly i didn't know what was the cherry blossom tea thing i was randomly thinking about cherry blossoms and i needed to add something so that happened.  
> i have no idea if you could actually eat cherry blossom. i'd advise you not to try unless it's proven to be safe.
> 
> update:  
> hi so im not updating today bc the stats haven't changed and i was hoping that it would be higher but i would update once the stats climb up. hope you guys have a great day and hope you're doing well! <3


	6. will's letters to tom/ tom's letters to will (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **okay, last try. im redirecting through pinterest now. if this doesn't work then i'll have to type it out. sorry for all the trouble.**
> 
> will and tom's letters to each other bc i was thinking about how people discovered a gay couple in world war 2 writing letters to each other and the letters were so sweet so i decided to base this chapter off this idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this way too heavy and dramatic?  
> (also i have to update these two by two, so bear with me)  
> lol it was fun writing these and making these. let me know if you enjoyed them as well.  
> now im tired.  
> anyway good day, ly guys <3


	7. will's letters to tom/ tom's letters to will (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **LAST TRY OKAY. STAY WITH ME.**
> 
> part two.  
> i had to post these two by two  
> don't get tired of me lol

IF YOU CANT SEE ANYTHING TELL ME. PLEASE. IM BEGGING FOR THIS TO WORK IASDJKJADSL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im really tired now.  
> god.  
> good day. <3


	8. will in a painting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uploading an additional chapter bc im sad and want to write something

If you saw someone, if only for a moment, and you look at them clearly, and you stay still and you see them, you might see something different, maybe the slightest little tilt to a smile, maybe the gleam in their eyes was brighter, maybe you could see the dark heightening their edges, maybe you could see the curve of their cheeks clearer, maybe you could catch how their hair gleams in the sunlight. But if you stopped, and be very, very still, you might see them, and nearly everything about them. 

One day Tom was sitting across Will for dinner, and he was laughing at something Tom said. Tom saw, then, almost like it was the first time, how Will's eyes crinkled around the corners, and how his mouth tilted up. And when Will's eyes met his, he couldn't dare look away; he wanted to drink every single feature of his face, to memorize it clearly, so clearly that he could have drawn in in his sleep. Later, he took out his paintbox, a canvas, and conjured up the image of Will sitting at the table, and carefully drew him.

He captured the way his eyes look- bright in the candlelight, something shining in it, the blue brought out from the light refraction. He mixed blue together, the darkest and the lightest shade of blue blended in and out, and carefully filled in his pupils, his irises. It was hard to draw his eyes- there is simply no way you could properly and completely capture the life of someone's eyes. But Tom managed- he close his eyes and brought up the mental image of Will- and he managed.

Then his cheeks, the dark of the hollow of his cheek, the slight curve in his cheekbone, the way the light softened his features. His jaw was next- how it cut sharply, how the light shone across it, and how it curved into his side. 

He drew the curve of Will's lips, how it curved up, the softness of it, how it made his face softer. It was rare to see Will smile in the trenches, and after the war, residual of pain and grief still clinging to them, Will smiled more as time passed, and Tom never grew old of seeing how his mouth turned up.

Slowly, his hand brushed over the image, pouring out the look of Will's laughter, the slightest little curve and edge, the way his hair fell across his forehead, wavy and almost golden in the candlelight. 

Tom held it at arm's length, stared at it, the image of Will created by his hand.

It was not him, not anything like him. It was a shadow, a small part of Will, because Will could not be possibly contained within a few strokes and the bland colouring from paint. No, Will was alive and living and real, and this painting could _never_ capture the way he breathes, the way he shines, and maybe it was something like Will, a small image, a sneak peek, an image of someone similar to him, but it was not _him._ Will was not just this face on a canvas, he was a human, a body, a soul with a heart and mind and everything contained inside of him, and there was no way that it could have express the way Will made Tom feel, no way at all could it replicate the feeling of warmth when Tom sees him. 

"What are you drawing?"

Tom turned, saw _him_ with his brown hair and blue, blue eyes, and smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really really liked writing this one <33  
> it was great and i hope you enjoyed it as much as i had  
> love you guys, hope you're all well and good, have a great day okay?


	9. tom is ill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dont worry this is very soft and light  
> i didn't plan to write anything today but i thought of like two sentences and i loved it and now i have to write it   
> this is life now.

One day Tom was down with a cold. At first it was a few sneezes, and when Will tried to get him to drink some hot water he only waved his offer away and laughed it away. But Will still sneaked extra blankets for Tom when he slept, and made his coffee hotter than usual. 

Will was always cautious when Tom showed the slightest symptoms of illness, and Tom often said he was way too paranoid. But this time Tom really did fall ill with a cold, and Will had the pleasure of fussing over him for the weekend. Tom at first tried to escape from the nest of blankets Will made for him, but finally relented when he started shivering. Will tucked Tom into the mound of blankets and pushed a cup of hot water into his hands, taking out the thermometer and checking his temperature every two minutes. 

"Will, my temperature won't change drastically in 120 seconds," Tom said after Will took his temperature for the thirtieth time. Will frowned, "I'm just being alert." Tom shook his head. "I'm good, Will. Just a cold."

Will frown's turned down even more. He sighed as he reached forward and brushed away a lock of hair from Tom's face. "I'm just worried."

Tom caught his hand and held it close to his cheek. His cheek was so warm, and it flushed pink even from his cold.

"You're always worried," he said softly. And it was true. The clear danger of the war might be gone, but Will constantly had that feeling in him that always made him scared that Tom would be taken from him, and that something would happen to him. It might be triggered from the smallest thing, like that time when he woke up to an empty bed and panicked for ten minutes until Tom emerged from the bathroom, confused. It took almost an hour to calm him down and to convince him that Tom was fine and unharmed. 

Tom knew his worries, but he didn't bring it up much out of fear that Will would breakdown, something that Will was glad for. He wasn't ready to face his feelings and fears. 

Will smiled, even though it was a tight one. He rose from the couch to get Tom some pills for his headache. He knew that Tom could see through his smile and his movements that he was still very concerned, but he tried not to act like he wanted to bundle Tom into some blankets and hide him far, far away from any form of danger. 

After Will forced Tom to eat a little more of the hot soup and had made him take his pills (with much resistance from Tom, who insisted that it was merely a sneeze or two, he said, while sneezing), Will got the sleep syrup and gave a small dose to Tom to aid him with his sleeping. Tom nodded off immediately after the syrup made his way down his throat, and Will rearranged his little nook of blankets and continued to fuss in silence.

When Will finally found nothing else to do and had checked Tom's temperature for the sixtieth (or was it sixty-five?) time, he finally sat down next to Tom and let himself rest. For a moment, he said to himself, before drifting off with his head resting on the blankets.

He woke up sometime at the middle of the night, maybe at three or four. The curtains weren't drawn over the windows, and slivers of moonlight poured through them, light in the dark landscape of the night. He turned to check on Tom, shifting his blankets and pressing his hand over his forehead to make absolutely sure that he was fine. The sleep syrup was still working, and Tom was in a steady sleep, his soft snores emanating the room.

Will brushed Tom's hair from his forehead, hand resting on the curve of Tom's cheek. He looked so small in his mound of blankets, so delicate and vulnerable. In his waking hours he was alive, and vibrant, with so much energy, so unlike this small figure on this couch. Will wanted him to wake up; there was something slightly troubling about how he couldn't hear Tom's excited voice, or the sparkle in his eyes when he was asleep. 

Fear gripped him, hard, pushed down on his heart and gripped his heart so tightly Will had to clutch his chest to make sure it was working. Will had hardly ever felt fear like this before, like it slammed into his chest and stunned him. He was afraid, of course, when he had to do everything alone when Tom was taken to receive medical help, when he had to jump into the gushing rapids, when he had to run across the waging warzone. But nothing, _nothing_ could compare to the fear he had felt that day at the barn, holding the bleeding body of Tom, the falling embers surrounding him, blurring everything like it was a dream. 

He pushed away these memories, pushed them deep and far back of his mind, like he always did when they rose to his thoughts. He shut his eyes and forced them away, to leave them to be dealt another day. 

Will opened his eyes and found Tom's hand, holding it as tightly as he could. Tom's hand was smaller than his, and so much softer. Will traced his thumb over the back of Tom's hand, and focused on Tom, his anchor, his only pillar securing him to the world. 

Leaning forward, he kissed the side of Tom's face, then rest his forehead against Tom's.

"I'm scared, Tom," he whispered. 

Words that he never would say in the brightness of the day passed his lips. He didn't know if his pain and fear would ever pass away, but he knew that if Tom was there, by his side, everything would be better and brighter.

In the faint moonlight, Will encircled an arm around Tom and curled around him, the blankets covering them both. Slowly, with the warmth of Tom's body seeping into him, he drifted off into a sleep where no fear could reach him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay. so maybe there was some heavy stuff sandwiched in between the softness. im sorry. i didn't mean to write it so sad and heavy but it just happened. hope the softness made up for it.


	10. will's smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wow i haven't updated in so long   
> i was (and still am) working on this screenplay thing so i got busy and stuff  
> ANYWAY  
> im back  
> you miss me?

One thing Tom loved about Will was how quiet he could be.

Will was not much of a talker when he's with strangers, which Tom had experienced firsthand back when they were in the trenches, Tom relentlessly badgering Will until he finally gave in and opened up to him.

One day Tom went to a pub gathering with his mates and dragged a very exasperated Will along with him. When Tom was laughing and talking uproariously, ordering beer after beer, Will sat at a corner reading. 

Tom remembered looking over at him and feeling extremely guilty. He walked over to Will, half drunk, and offered him to come over and apologised fervently. Will laughed and said that he didn't mind sitting in a corner. Tom, most definitely under the effects of alcohol and not because he cared a lot about Will, started weeping. After Will being shocked (and very amused), he handed him tissues and let Tom say incoherent things about how he was so glad that he had Will and other ramblings. Then when Tom had stopped crying he received a kiss and a smile from Will, who pushed him back to his friends. Minutes later Tom was no longer weepy and was hollering loudly while watching one of his mates being carried around by four people. 

Laughing, he turned around to grab the beer on the table. And at the corner was Will, carefully turning the pages of his book. The dim lighting hid part of his face in shadows, and Tom didn't know if it was real or if it was the light playing tricks on him or simply because he had drank too much, but Will seemed to be shimmering, the rest of the surroundings faded and dimmed before his glow. The pub melted away; there was only the faint humming of the noises in the background, a sound from somewhere far, far, away...

Will's face was set in concentration, his eyes intent, eyebrows furrowed, lips set in a serious line. Will seemed to float towards him, his figure somehow moving towards him, and Tom stared, entranced. 

The rest of everything melted away, fading into a haze of soft orange light from the fluorescent lamps, the laughter simply tuned down to a faint sound, as if nothing in the world could dare intrude this moment.

Tom wondered vaguely if this was a dream or a hallucination.

And then, Will, as if by some mysterious force, looked up and saw him, an expression of surprise first appearing on his face, then replaced by an amused expression.

Tom said his name- at least, he thought he did, he was still not sure whether he was dreaming as the glow from Will brightened and undulated, and Will smiled- truly smiled, corners of mouth turned up, wide, and everything seemed to stop as he did. 

The glow intensified, or rather the whole world was going dimmer, he didn't know. 

But what he did know, was that this moment, rather real or not, was the single most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this didn't go exactly as i expected but it was great however way hahahhah


	11. hiking with tom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi im backkkkk  
> so  
> you're wondering  
> "well is this the last chapter"  
> no  
> that might be either good news or bad news to you  
> but either way  
> i hope you enjoy it

Will loved hiking, a love that was not shared by Tom. 

One day Will wanted to go hiking in the woods somewhere near their house, and roused Tom early in the morning. Tom put up a struggle and groaned and hid under the blankets, but eventually stumbled out of bed, grouchy and unwilling. 

When they finally made it out their front door Will was slightly less excited, affected by Tom's grumpy mood.

The day was beautiful and the skies were clear, but with Tom complaining Will could hardly admire how beautiful the weather was. The sun was beating down on them, and it was getting steeper and more difficult to continue on, evident from Tom's heavy panting and his increase in complains. Will didn't mind though; he loved hiking because he was going somewhere, he was moving and trying to reach the top, and he longed so much to see what was on the other side of the mountain. Even though the weather was getting hotter by the minute, his motivation and curiosity powered every step he took, and he barely minded the heat.

Tom was lagging behind, his complains reduced now that the road led to a slope

"God, Will, could you wait?" he panted, stooping to catch his breath. "This is stupid," he snapped. "Why did you have to drag me up and force me to walk?"

Will's temper flared suddenly, and he turned on his heel and walked away, barely noticing where he was going due to his anger and frustration with Tom. 

Why was Tom always complaining? Why couldn't he just deal with it? He hated it when Tom lashes out just because he was angry. Will wanted to have a nice day hiking, but Tom ruined all that now. 

Bitter thoughts consumed him, and he didn't stop walking, journeying deeper and deeper into the woods. 

He finally looked up to his surroundings when he heard a loud cricket chirp. He was somewhere deep in the woods, the trees towering over him. He looked around. No one seemed to be around. 

Alarm spiked through Will when he realised that Tom was nowhere to be seen. 

"Tom?" Will called, heart pounding in his chest. _Calm down, everything is fine, he's probably not far behind,_ he tried to convince himself.

"Tom," he called again. 

The lone chirp of a cricket sounded from within the trees, almost like a warning.

Will ran.

* * *

As he ran, the ground pounding underneath him, branches and leaves crunching under his feet, many many thoughts appeared in his mind. But there was only one feeling in his heart: guilt. 

He was stupid for leaving him, stupid for being angry at him, stupid for thinking about his emotions. _And now it's your fault, Will, he might be lost, or worse, hurt._

And it all came back to him: Tom, bleeding out in his arms; Tom, so weak that he couldn't even stand; Tom, dying and him being helpless, unable to help him. What if he found him, lifeless, sprawled on the ground? What if it would be the same nightmare over and over again, with Tom lifeless in his arms? 

The thought almost broke Will, and he almost couldn't continue to move through the woods.

_Move, Will, you have to find him, you can't lose him again._

So Will ran and ran, so in fear that he would lose Tom again. 

He called his name, over and over again, hoping that he would hear his voice, see his face, and be sure that he was fine. 

He crashed through a clearing, a stitch bursting in his stomach, kneeling over from the exertion and the pain. 

"Will?"

He looked up to see Tom walking towards him, concern on his face. He helped Will up.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry I couldn't keep up, you were walking so fast and then I saw this flower-" 

Will, letting out a sob, grabbed Tom and hugged him tightly. 

"What-? Are you crying?"

Will didn't answer, half-strangled sobs still coming out from him. He didn't know whether it was the fear or the guilt or just because Tom was here, in his arms, but he held Tom tighter than he ever had.

"I'm sorry," Will said in between sobs. "I'll never leave you, Tom, I'm so sorry."

Tom wiped away his tears and only looked at him with his grey-blue eyes, a hundred words passed between them unsaid. 

Will took him in his arms again, held him and swore not to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the reason this chapter wasn't as soft/ light was because i felt like highlighting the fact that even though blakefield was sweet and all they weren't perfect and sometimes they disagree and argue like all couples. it's genuinely hard to function as an unit instead of individuals, because they are both their own persons and they make mistakes and they have flaws too. tom could be short-tempered when things don't go his way. will could get frustrated and sometimes run away from problems instead of facing them.  
> but they love each other. that's what keeps them going. love is always trying and trying again and again, and sometimes we have to be patient about love, however confusing or frustrating or messy it is. 
> 
> anyway  
> that was heavy  
> sorry for dropping that  
> lots of thoughts  
> but i hope you guys are feeling good!!!  
> reminder that it's sometimes hard to be with someone, even someone you love, it's hard, especially now we're quarantining. patience is the key. it's hard, but it works.  
> have a great day!


	12. party with will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THEY GO DANCING  
> yeah  
> i thought you guys might want something more cheerful after the last weird and out of place chapter  
> uhhh idk  
> im sad bc cara and ashley broke up  
> the GAYS ARE SAD  
> sorry  
> enjoy

Tom suggested to go dancing one day, which caused Will to stare at him with a confused expression on his face.

"Come on!" Tom said, flopping onto the couch and patting Will's knees. "It will be fun."

"I don't dance," Will said, promptly returning his attention to the paperback he was reading.

Tom smirked. "You meant you can't dance."

Will's eyes narrowed, and he ducked his head further into the book, confirming that Tom was right. Tom laughed, and laughed even harder when Will rolled his eyes and huffed loudly.

"I can teach you, Will, it's not a problem," he said, nudging Will's shoulder and grinning. 

Will didn't surface from his book.

Tom shook Will's arm and pouted.

"C'mooonnn," Tom drawled, propping his head right onto Will's shoulder. "Don't you want to have fun?"

Will's eyes appeared over the book.

"Or are you a _boring_ person?" Tom gasped in pretend shock, drawing away from him and putting a hand over his heart.

Will rolled his eyes, but this time with a smile. 

"Fine, then, I'll go," he said, sighing and putting an arm around Tom. 

Tom leaned forward to give him a kiss.

"But you can't leave me for the entire evening," Will said, raising his eyebrows at Tom.

Tom grinned and kissed him. 

"That won't be a problem."

* * *

"You can't be serious."

They had arrived at the speakeasy where the floors glittered with either polish or actual glitter, the music floated loud and clear over the din, the light from the candles thrown over the mass of people, shadows and light chasing across the walls. There were crowds of people dancing, drinking, flirting; their clothes flamboyant and shimmering under the light, their voices forming a cacophony of laughter, shouts and the swirling chaos that is the place.

Tom observed all this with a wide smile, eager to delve into the swirling mass and drown himself in his surroundings. There was so many things to look; the dazzling stage in which ladies with painted faces strutted and crooned along with the music, the gleaming bars where liquors Tom couldn't even name lined, the circle in the middle of the speakeasy where the people laughed and danced and exchanged heat with each other.

He remembered himself enough to glance at Will beside him, who was watching the scene with an unreadable expression on his face. Tom knew that this place was somewhere Will would have never went on his own. Tom reached for his hand and tried for an encouraging smile. Will, eyes narrowed, stared at him, as if saying, _This was **your** idea._

Tom grinned awkwardly. He tugged Will closer to him and set off into the crowd. 

There were many alcohols passed around to them, most of them unknown to both of them, which Tom took excitedly, before seeing Will's face and setting it down. Though, Will allowed both him and Tom a glass of wine, seemingly to give in after weaving through the throng, an action that proved to be exhausting after doing so for fifteen minutes. 

Finally they made their way to a place near the bar where they observed their surroundings, sipping their wine. There was some encouragement for some of the flamboyant girls to dance on top of the tables, which they did, which much enthusiasm and cheers. 

Tom smiled slightly, an expression not shared by Will. Will put an arm behind him, pulling him closer, as if afraid that he would be taken from him. 

Tom wanted desperately to run into the crowd and dance and generally enjoy the night. But Will was afraid, and Tom wouldn't leave him just for his sake.

"S'cuse me, mister," a girl with a bob cut rushed up to them, grinning widely, the sparkles on her dress throwing light everywhere. "You wanna dance?" She offered a hand to Tom and batted her long lashes. Tom raised his eyebrows. He looked at Will, who was also watching with raised eyebrows. 

"Well," Tom said, turning back to the girl. "I would love to, but-"

"Yes, he would love to dance with you," Will interrupted, slightly propelling Tom forward. Tom widened his eyes in shock. Will half-smiled and mouthed, _Go for it._

Tom took the girl's hand and immediately was pulled into the crowd. 

They reached the centre of the floor, and the jazzy and up-beat tempo spurred them into a fast dance. 

The girl leaned in close to Tom and smiled, "Don't worry. I won't take you away from him for too long." 

"Oh," Tom said, then realisation sparked in him as he understood what the girl was implying. " _Oh._ How did you know?"

The girl winked, "He had his arm around you."

Tom blushed slightly.

It was not soon when he lost himself in the glittering swirl of music and crowd.

* * *

Tom finally excused himself from the dancefloor after a while, in search for Will and a drink.

He found the latter first, a glass of spirits which he drank, the liquid burning its way down his throat. 

He spotted Will later, pressed against the wall, his shirt ruffled, face disgruntled. He seemed utterly unaffected by the hypnotizing mass of the partying and laughter. When he sees Tom a muscle in his jaw relaxed. He uncrossed his arms and reached for Tom, pulling him closer, his arm curling around Tom's waist. 

"Sorry I left," Tom said, speaking a little louder to be heard over the noise. 

Will only smiled and brushed a kiss on his temple. 

For a while they observed the crowd, not really moving. Then Tom pulled away from Will, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the crowd. He felt Will stiffen as they delve into the mass of bodies but did not detach from him. 

They reached the centre of the floor, where the light shone the brightest. Tom strode into the ring of people, eager. Will hung back, stepping slightly outside of the light. Smiling, Tom reached for him, taking his hands and leading him into the light. Will reluctantly let himself be pulled into the ring of light. 

The band struck up a slower, more relaxed tune that the people quickly caught on by grabbing partners and swaying slowly. 

Will slid his arms around Tom, and slowly they began to sway to the music. Tom put his hands around Will's neck, his head resting on Will's collarbone. Will's lips brushed against Tom's ear as he leaned down. 

The night wore on, but nothing could have separated the two swaying figures at the centre, their hands around each other, the light in their eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn i was rushing sorry lmao..
> 
> is this accurate really??? i don't really know lmao i googled up a ton of tabs that gave me headaches but i love the 1920s party shit things idk what you call them you know the one with leonardo di caprio??? the great gatsby shit but less extravagant. sorry im going on a roll it's my hypomania.
> 
> ANYWAY  
> i hope you guys are doing good. i feel pretty good today, i just want to hug you all and make sure you're okay. rare mood but okay.


	13. tom with jacket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi guys :))  
> how are you?? hope you're doing well  
> i wanted to write another longer chapter?? but i got inspired and now im writing this slightly shorter but cuter chapter  
> enjoy!
> 
> (p.s. i was pretty vague about where they lived because i really don't know where they would live)

Snow was falling, an extremely rare sight to be found in the area where they were living in. 

Tom woke up with a joyous cry, sprinting up to kneel on the couch, hands pressed on the glass, staring at the falling snow with wonderment. Will, for once waking up later than him, laughed when Tom went outside and started spinning in circles, the snow swirling around him.

When he came inside he was coated in snow like powder sugar sprinkled all over him, dusting his hair and clothes. Will brushed away the snow, while Tom laughed, pulling him close and kissing him until snow had settled on both of them.

The snow wasn't more than an inch or two, so they set off downtown to watch a motion picture in those newly opened theatres. They decided on a Chaplin movie, and even though Will missed out on some of the jokes (he never really got Chaplin humor), Tom loved it and couldn't stop rambling about it after they walked out of the theatre. 

They took the motor bus back home, and Tom, though excited, slowly became more and more tired as his adrenaline caught up with him. He slowly nodded off to sleep, his head falling onto Will's shoulder. Will, who was blushing faintly (he hoped it wasn't visible in the night), merely draped his own jacket over Tom's sleeping body.

When they had arrived at their stop, there was hardly anyone left due to the late hours and how far from town they lived. Will nudged Tom, who woke up and only managed to walk out the motor bus before once again returning to sleep.

Will put an arm around him to support him and steadily walked their way back home. 

There was something quite calming about everything that night. The way how thin fleets of snow still drifted from the sky, which was not yet the colour of black, but not the blue of the day. Will had once heard something about snow absorbing sound, and he was certain it was true by how quiet everything seemed to be; the landscape a silent hush of white, the birds that usually chirped silent, the wind not daring to even rustle a leaf.

Will looked down at Tom. His figure was almost covered fully by Will's jacket, which was bigger than him by a few sizes. The sleeves draped long past his hands, and Will could see the tips of his fingers peeking out. Will smiled and kissed Tom's temple.

* * *

When morning came the next day, Will woke up in their bed, and turned to see Tom next to him, still wearing his jacket, sleeping peacefully. 

Will shifted slightly, reaching out a hand to touch his arm. 

Tom stirred, opening his eyes blearily. When he focused on Will he smiled sleepily. 

"Good morning stranger," he yawned. He looked down at what he was wearing and touched the smooth material of the jacket.

He raised an eyebrow. 

Will smirked, holding up Tom's arm and showing how his fingertips just grazed the hem of the sleeve. 

Tom snatched his arm away. 

"It's not my fault. Joe got all the tall and good-looking genes," he huffed, looking adorably annoyed.

Will's grin faded a little. He moved closer to Tom, wrapping his arms around him. 

"That's not true."

"Now you're just saying that," Tom said in a half-hearted annoyed tone.

In response, Will kissed him deeply until they both pulled apart, breathless. 

Will arched an eyebrow.

"Now do I sound like I'm just saying that?" 

Tom rolled his eyes.

"Well, you certainly wouldn't kiss Joe like that..."

Will laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some domestic-esque blakefield  
> wanted to write about tom wearing will's jacket but this was pretty long-winded to the buildup bc I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE IM FUCKING DUMB  
> okay.  
> lol the longer chapter that was intended to be posted first was not saved so i lost THE WHOLE FUCKING CHAPTER. and so im writing this shorter chapter to feel better and bc i hate that chapter now iT'S CURSED.  
> but i'm going to post that chapter later don't worry. just not now bc i hate it. >:(


	14. beach with will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yee  
> i procrastinated for this one chapter for so long. this is by far the most difficult chapter to write i changed it so many times god.  
> kind of tired  
> but here goes

One summer day they went to the coast of Sussex, and basked their day in the sunlit balconies of white-washed inns by the coast. Their hours were passed slowly and languidly, the brisk summer air wrapping them around in a sort of tranquil sort of sense. The world became smaller; their room a haven, the sun a companion in their peaceful time making. Time became somewhat a distant memory, something that was meant to happen but was eventually delayed to the point that it disappeared, as though fearing to disrupt the peace they both held. 

On the beach they lay, the slight winds whipping through their hair, the crashing of the waves almost rhythmic, the sun bearing light upon them both. There was hardly anyone on the beach, and it seemed that they were the only ones living in the world. 

Tom made his way down the beach, until he was ankle deep in sea water, the waves washing over his feet and retreating again, his toes sinking into the silken sand beneath. He raised his head to the skies, shielding his eyes against the harsh sun. 

A pattering of feet, and Will was besides him, feet also submerged in the water. His arm wrapped around Tom's waist, and Tom leaned into him, savouring his warmth. 

Soon they started walking along the shoreline, feet leaving faint imprints on the wet sand before the wave comes and wipe them away. Tom stopped along the way, looking up to see that they were standing directly in the rays of the sun. He smiled at Will, who was looking at him with a sort of funny look. "What," Tom asked, fearing that something about his appearance was out of place. Will shook his head, and the glazed look disappeared. A smirk curved his mouth, and before Tom had time to cry out Will had kicked up a bout of water which splashed Tom from head to toe. 

Dripping in water and gaping in disbelief, Tom stared at Will for a moment before retaliating with dousing water at him. Will only stared at him, arching an eyebrow at him. A blink and Tom was already running down the shoreline, laughing as Will chased him. Just as Will grabbed the back of Tom's shirt, Tom tripped, bringing both of them down the water. 

For a moment Tom could feel the salt water gushing up his nose and mouth, and his head emerged from the water. Running a hand over his face and gasping, Tom could faintly hear Will laughing. He turned to see Will, also submerged in water, laughing. Tom weakly pushed water at him, but it wasn't much of a retaliation since they were already soaked through. 

Will only pulled him close and kissed him. 

* * *

After, they both made their way back up the beach, laying on the sand while the heat from the sun and the winds dried their clothes.

Tom lay across Will, his head resting on Will's chest, Will's arm draped around him, Will's other hand curled in Tom's hair. 

"You want to know a secret?" Tom asked, looking up at Will. The sun has dipped lower, the light casting on his face, his half-lidded eyes.

Will chuckled. "I think I know all of your secrets."

"You don't," Tom protested, "Not this one."

Will sighed, the wind doing the same, teasing his hair through the air. "Okay then. What is it."

"I'm scared of the dark," Tom said in a confidential tone. Will laughed, his face turning up to the sky, and Tom's heart could have burst with the joy his face beheld. 

Will shook his head, still chuckling. "I know that. You couldn't sleep that one time we had a blackout. And when you arrived at the trenches that first night you barely slept."

Tom started to retort, before raising his eyebrows. "Oh? So you noticed me?"

Will rolled his eyes, though Tom caught the faint pink that had spread over his cheeks. 

"What else, then?" Will said, nudging Tom, "What secrets do you think I don't know?"

"Well," Tom pondered for a moment before exclaiming, "You probably don't know that I punched Joe once."

"Knew that. You were rambling about that one time when you were drunk."

Tom's eyebrows screwed together. Then he snapped his fingers.

"Oh, I know! You don't know that I cheated my mum to get Myrtle."

"Knew that. Joe told me."

"Ah, but you don't know that I hate pecans."

"Knew that. You wouldn't eat it one time when my sister tried to make you."

"Well, but did you know that I once had a goose?"

Will looked down at him. "You made that one up, didn't you?"

Tom elbowed Will, "For God's sake!"

Will laughed again, shaking his head. "Told you. I know everything about you."

Tom turned his head away to hide the blush that had risen up his face. 

"Well, what about you Mr. Know-It-All?" Tom scoffed. "What deep dark secrets do you have? Tell me."

Will sighed. For a moment only the wind made sound, huffing through the coast, tossing their hair. Then Will said in a casual tone, "I think I had a pet fox at some point."

"What?!" Tom said, twisting his head to look at Will. "How-? What-? Why-?"

Will shrugged. "I think I was seven or something. He went missing though. Couldn't find him after a month or two."

Tom shook his head, "You are so weird." Then, dying to know more, Tom nudged Will. "What else?"

"Er," Will said in the same casual tone, "I was in a band once."

"What?!"

"I was drunk. It lasted a day and a half." Will shrugged again. "It's a long story."

Tom righted himself to stare at Will. "Don't tell me you killed someone next." Will arched an eyebrow. Then Tom remembered that they had both fought in a war. Tom quickly reverted the conversation to something else.

"Well, what else? Kidnapped anyone? Burnt down any buildings?" Tom said drily. He propped up an elbow and rested his head on his hand, staring up at Will. In the shine from the sun, Will looked as if he was carved from pale gold, his features prominent and sharp. His eyes were molten metal; the hue of the blue somehow looking so different now that it was cast in sunlight. 

"Well," Will shifted, inching closer to Tom, until they were only a few inches apart. His hand had drifted close to Tom's face, and he was brushing locks of his hair that had fallen across his brow, his long, deft fingers brushing against his skin. Tom's breathing hitched, entranced by everything: the way Will's eyes looked, the way the wind was weaving through Will's hair, and most of all, the man whose fingers were through his hair, touching him as though he was something delicate. 

"Did you know..."

Will was so close now, he could see every flutter of his eyelashes, highlight the rosy colour in his lips, those damned lips... he couldn't wrench his gaze from those soft lips. Tom wanted so badly to touch him, so badly, but he was almost frozen, stilled by Will's touch.

Then Will's hand cupped his cheek, pulled him close, and his lips were on Will's, the kiss sweet and yearning. Will pulled away slightly, but Tom followed him, until the space between them was no more, until he was again kissing those soft lips. Will's lips parted for him, and Tom could taste him, sweet, like the summer air around them. 

A soft noise escaped Will's mouth, and Tom's knees almost buckled at the sound. He dragged his mouth over the corners of Will's mouth, kissing the soft hollow of his cheeks, trailing down his jaw, his collarbone, until another low sound parted Will's lips. Will's hand was threading through his hair, his arm around his waist, and when Will pulled him closer, to trail burning kisses down his throat, Tom was now the one who was whimpering, terrified at the beauty and the heat of Will, how Will's skin felt under his fingertips, how his hips fitted perfectly against his. 

Tom wrapped his arms around Will's neck, drawing him in another kiss. Will's hand cupped the nape of his neck, brushing against the back of his neck, and his lips drifted from his to plant a kiss on the underside of Tom's jaw, drawing out another low noise from his lips, and the only thing that made Tom remember that he was here was the feeling of Will's shoulders under his arms. 

Will pulled away, and Tom could see, so clearly, the way the light danced in those deep blue eyes. Will's thumb grazed across his cheekbone, and very softly, he said, "Did you know that I have wanted to do that, so badly, when I saw you in the trenches."

Tom's heart ached, with longing and happiness, for he remembered all too well how it was like; to look across the ugly and grey-washed landscape of the war, and see Will with his blue eyes shining brightly, and wanting so badly to be held by him, to touch his cheek and his lips. 

And now, sitting on the beach, with him in the arms of the blue-eyed man, no longer bound by rules or control, Tom took his hand, kissed the soft part of his palm, feeling the warmth of his skin. 

The sun dipped low on the horizon, dusting the landscape with a gold and purple hue. 

Something about everything- the sound of the waves, the smell of the wind, the hazy golden air around them- made Tom wonder if he was in some terrible mockery of his dreams.

Light teased across Will's features, and Tom pressed a hand to the curve of his cheek, feeling his every breath, making sure that he was not some apparition borne from his mind's eye. 

Will leaned into his touch, and Tom slowly, sweetly, kissed him. 

"You have me, and all the time in the world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well.  
> wasn't that fun?  
> i hope you liked it.   
> im really tired asjdkdkasjdsjaksdajkhkjshdkj  
> also  
> please comment something  
> nonsense or whatever. i need recognition thanks.   
> NOW. i will retire to my cave and nurse my cramps. thanks guys.


	15. chess with tom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YE  
> IM BACK  
> HA  
> I HAVE A MIGRAINE  
> HA  
> ENJOY

"So,"

Will looked up from where he was contemplating where to move his rook.

Tom sat across him on the floor, head cocked to one side, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, an image of casual jauntiness.

"I see you're finding yourself stuck, aren't you?" 

Will shrugged. "Maybe," he said in an equally off-handed tone.

Tom leaned back, stretching languidly, his shirt lifting a bit to reveal his skin, which was not distracting to Will at all.

His eyes gleamed, his eyebrows arched; Will could feel his cockiness radiating off him. Will liked this mood on Tom, though he covered it up by pretending that he was annoyed by his arrogance, but something about the way Tom said things in that lofty tone, the way he was so assured and confident in himself makes him seem so endearing.

Will looked down at the chessboard. He could see at least three ways of how he could checkmate Tom's king, he ran them through his head.

He looked up. Tom's mouth was curved in a jubilant smile, his glittering eyes daring him.

Will smirked a little, and pushed forward his knight. 

"Check-"

He pushed down Tom's king.

"-mate."

A glance up confirmed what Will had predicted; Tom was staring at the chessboard with his mouth hanging open, no longer jaunty nor cocky.

"You cheated!" Tom shook his head.

Will tried to hide his smile. "No, I didn't."

Tom shook his head again. He stared at the chessboard and then back at Will.

"You were teasing me, weren't you? At first?"

Will couldn't stop the smile blossoming on his face.

Tom grabbed the nearest thing to him- a pillow- and threw it at Will.

Will laughed as the pillow smacked his face, and continued laughing when Tom leapt across the room to almost literally pounce on him. 

With his back on the floor, and with a Tom sitting on his chest and using the pillow to smother him, Will couldn't stop laughing, and laughed even harder when he saw Tom's mortified face.

Finally catching his breath, Will easily flipped Tom over until he was the one leaning over him.

Will chuckled when he saw Tom's face, and then stopped when he _saw_ Tom's face.

Tom was flustered, his hair falling across his forehead, those lips soft and pink and full, and his eyes, _daring_ him. Will forgot what they were doing, where they were, in that moment, because it was just Tom staring up at him with those ridiculously beautiful eyes. 

Will brushed Tom's hair, leaned down and kissed him, until they were both, again, breathless.

Tom stared up at him, his eyes glowing like light was struck inside them. Then he leaned up to Will, and kissed him fully, and Will could only remember how brightly his eyes shone, and nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short and sweet chapter!!!  
> this was so spontaneous lmao  
> but i really liked it so i hope you guys did too  
> now i have to nurse my migraine and possibly sleep.


	16. movie with tom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY PRIDE MONTH TO YOU ALL!!!!!!!!!!  
> I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH  
> <3333  
> take some time to click in this link!  
> ly all!!!

They were walking through the chattering streets of East Sussex, Tom excitedly bounding into shops and getting distracted by the colorful merchandise. Tom draped loud ties over Will until he was covered with very un-Will-like, eye-popping colors, and a very disgruntled expression.

When the employee came over and asked whether they were going to buy the ties, Will sighed and removed all the ties, dragging Tom away before he could study the crystal bottles lined on the shelves.

Flitting from shop to shop, they bought these delicious looking treats called knickerbocker glory, which was not only, as Tom putted, "really bloody good", it was also huge, so they shared one as they sat in front of the store, savouring the sweet ice cream and making a game out of guessing the backgrounds of the people passing by them.

Will looked up to the sky. "It's going to rain."

Tom waved his concerns away. "Don't worry, it's just a few grey clouds."

Will frowned. 

Soon enough, it started to rain. Will turned to Tom and raised an eyebrow. "I told-"

Tom elbowed Will and rolled his eyes.

Running for cover, they stumbled under an awning. Brushing rainwater from their clothes, Tom looked to see that they had came across a movie theatre, and instantly urged Will to buy tickets for the new movie, _The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse._

Soon they were settled in the plush seats of the theatre, the surroundings dark and hush, and the film started.

Tom immediately was captured into the film, the astounding music and the magic of the film.

But the depiction of the war still caused pain in Tom, and he tried his best not to flinch when the images of the war appeared. 

He turned to Will, concerned. Will's eyes were trained on the film, nothing out of the ordinary except for the way he gripped the sides of his chair.

Tom rest his hand on Will's, and Will finally turned to look at him, his eyes undilating, focusing on him. Tom's heart ached as he saw the pain in his eyes.

Tom asked him silently, _Do you want to go?_

Will shook his head, only lacing their fingers together.

Tom gripped his hand tighter.

Soon, they both relaxed a bit, unspoken fears hanging between them, battled by their hands bound together, both of them fighting against the memories and the horrors together.

They had arrived to where Julio visits his love, Marguerite, and Tom turned to look at Will.

Will's face was cast in the light of the film, lighting his eyes in moonlight gold. His angular features were sharpened by the shadows, the sharp cut of his jaw prominent. His lips were parted in wonderment, and Tom, for all his worth, could not stop staring at his lips.

Will was captivated by the film, and Tom, in turn, is totally enraptured by Will.

Will, as though sensing Tom staring at him, slowly turned to him too. For a while they looked at each other, as though seeing each other for the first time. Tom was drinking in his features, trying to find a word to properly capture the beauty in his face.

Their eyes met, and, in unison, they turned back to the film, just to catch the words on the screen:

“How could I dare to hope for your love! I have been a coward.  
I will be one no longer!  
This country is yours – my father’s – and I will fight for it!”

As soon as Julio said those words, Marguerite faced him, elation lighting up her face, tears welling up her eyes, and her lover kissed her hands reverently.

And, almost like the same, they faced each other again, slowly, carefully, until their eyes met again.

There was silence; between them, and in the theatre too, nothing dared to make a sound.

Tom could see Will’s eyes clearly now; they were blue, and dark, and Tom imagined them to be very very deep, without a bottom, the expanse of it vast and unyielding.

Tom didn’t dare to breathe; he didn’t want to break whatever that was happening. He was afraid if he moved time would start again, and they would no longer be suspended in this moment.

Will’s hand drifted up – and touched his cheek, and Tom almost gasped, at his _warmth_ , his _realness,_ and the entirety of Will.

He was so close now – close enough for Tom to see the way his eyelashes flutter and the small scar on his temple.

And then they closed the space between them, till there was nothing that could break them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Peace has come—but the Four Horsemen will still ravage humanity—stirring unrest in the world—until all hatred is dead and only love reigns in the heart of mankind."  
> - _the four horsemen of the apocalypse (1921)_
> 
> #blacklivesmatter  
> please help out


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